


lukewarm.

by sonsoflucis



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M, Nervousness, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 01:47:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14966492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonsoflucis/pseuds/sonsoflucis
Summary: prompto's roommate finds herself between shower tile and a hard place.





	lukewarm.

**Author's Note:**

> a gift for kitten.

Looking over your clothes, you carefully lay out clean pants and your uniform for work, running a hand through your tangled mess of hair. Eyeing the clock on your bedroom wall, you check your phone, because surely that time can’t be right. Closing your closet door, you let out a long, drawn-out sigh when you hear the water running the bathroom. How does he manage this every morning? How is he so damn quiet? “Prom! I have to be at work in an hour!”

When he doesn’t answer, you grab your towel and stomp down the hall, knocking loudly on the door. “Prom!”

“What?”

“You said I could have the first shower.”

“Yeah, well, I changed my mind.” He grins widely, lathering shampoo into his hair.

“But you always use up the hot water,” you whine. “I just want one nice shower. Pleeeeease.”

“Ya snooze, ya lose, baby.”

“Fucking bet,” you grumble, opening the door. He slides the shower door open, poking his head out.

“What’re you doin’?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” you huff, draping your towel over the counter. He smirks, soap suds on his chin like a beard. Rolling your eyes, you slide your pajama pants off your hips, hanging them on the doorknob.

“Whoa, whoa, hey!” Prompto’s face turns several shades of crimson, his eyes wide.

“Oh, like you haven’t seen a woman naked before.” Your tank top is next, a tiny bubble of amusement building as you take in Prompto’s expression of complete horror.

“I mean, yeah, but it’s you. You’re like-“

“If you say sister, I’m gonna use your toothbrush.”

“…like a close friend.”

“Close friends shower together sometimes, move,” you mumble, pushing your way past him and into the shower.

“Yeah, but, like-“

“Look, I have to go to work. My hair is a mess and I can’t wait for you to finish admiring yourself in the mirror, so here we are. Now pass me my conditioner, please, and we’ll take turns in the water.”

“I don’t gawk at myself in the mirror,” he grumbles, handing you the bottle.

“Prom, we live together,” you reply. “You gawk.”

“I practice my pick up lines.”

“And gawk. Also your pick up lines are dreadful.”

“They are not!”

“Who taught them to you?”

“Noct and Gladio.”

“Then they’re awful.”

Prompto peeks over his shoulder at you as he rinses his hair out, admiring the soft lines of your body as you scrub your arms. “Let me try one on you.”

“Go for it, chief.”

Clearing his throat, he turns to face you, leaning in until his breath tickles your neck. “If it’s true you are what you eat, I could be you by morning.”

“No. No. Absolutely not. No.” You shove him away, shaking your head. “You fucking serial killer, try again.”

“That was golden! Fine, fine, uh… If you were a cockatrice, you’d be im _peck_ able.”

“Are you… are you calling me a chicken?”

“No, no, it’s a pun. You’re not a chicken, you’re beautiful.”

“Are you saying chickens aren’t pretty?” You smile to yourself as you trade places with him under the water, wetting your hair.

“No, they’re great. Sexy, even. I mean, gods, stop. Stop. What the _fuck_ , Prom, man, get it together. Chickens are not something I want to have sex with and you’re hot!”

Gaze flitting up to his, you raise an eyebrow, cheeks tinged red. “You think I’m hot?”

“Well, yeah. Have you seen you?”

“No, not recently. The mirror just shows a void with hair.”

“You’re so funny,” he returns mockingly, shaking his head. You giggle softly, catching yourself staring, cheeks flushing. Prompto has always been off your radar. Not for any particular reason, he just never seemed interested so why bother? But now, with beads of water dripping off the ends of his hair, his dark lilac eyes curious and shining in the cool bathroom light, he is most definitely noticed. Freckles dot his cheeks, spilling down onto his shoulders, a few sprinkled across his chest. The definition in his arms is heightened by the water and shadows in the shower, the pale blue morning light coming in through the sheer curtains soft on his skin. The v of his hips is sharp, his torso lean and strong. Every curve is elegant, every edge is carefully crafted. And that smile. That smile causes something to stir in your core, your lips parted as you scan every inch of him.

“Come here,” he says after a moment, slicking his damp hair back with a smarmy grin. Opening the shower door, he points at the partially fogged up mirror, turning you gently with a hand on your hip. “Look at her. Those eyes, man. You could do anything you wanted to me if it meant you were looking at me with those eyes.”

“Oh please,” you scoff, painfully aware of his body pressed against you, the heat of him welcome and gentle.

“Would I ever lie to you?” He takes your hands and moves them across your body, over your stomach, his eyes twinkling when your breath hitches. “I can’t believe you’re real sometimes.” Growing a bit bolder, his lips drag over your neck as he nuzzles gently. Nodding, you swallow thickly, not fighting the building need to experience him.

“I believe you.”

His head dips down, resting on your shoulder as he holds your jaw, making sure you’re looking in the mirror. “This woman is so freaking amazing. She never gives up on people. She never lets anyone feel unwanted or worthless.”

“Prom…” As you move to face him, your mouths collide in a burst of sparks and sharp inhales, and he is pressing you up against the cool tile in a matter of seconds. Water pours down his back as he kisses you recklessly, desperately, holding your wrists above your head. This is new, acting on a whim, brave and stupid and hoping you won’t be angry. But you return the kisses with just as much vigor, gasping his name softly as he trails searing kisses down your throat.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, hiking your leg up around his hip.

“I can’t…”

“Tell me this is too much.”

“I don’t want to,” you breathe, noses brushing as he steals another tender kiss, lips ghosting.

“This is crazy,” Prompto whispers, the length of his body holding you against the wall, the impressive girth of his cock heavy and thick against your stomach.

“Don’t you dare stop.” The gunman reaches down between the two of you and grabs his shaft, rubbing the head against your slick heat with a low groan. He searches your eyes for permission, finding nothing but an unsated craving, and pushes himself into you slowly. He can’t believe it. This girl, this girl he has shared most everything with, is giving herself to him willingly. Him, the nerdy, scrawny shadow of the prince. Prompto smiles as he kisses you again, swallowing your moans as he begins to thrust.

Your knees buckle, the way he has you pinned the only thing holding you up as you succumb to pleasure. “Faster,” you whine, licking water off his lower lip as you bite it. “Gods, faster!”

He obliges, releasing your wrists in favor of lifting you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he rails into you with determination. “You look so good,” he mutters quietly, watching the way you writhed against the wall. He ruts his hips up, snapping sharply to make your breasts bounce in tandem. You moan, the lewd sounds echoing in the bathroom as you tip your head back.

“Oh gods! Ah, Prom! Prom!”

He never thought he’d hear someone call his name like that, like they’re made of sin, of filth and magic. “Say it. Say it louder,” he murmurs, moving so the water trickles down your front. You smooth your hands over your chest, eyes mere slits as you observe how intently he focuses on you. “Say my name!” he barks, quickening his pace.

You wrap your arms around his neck, crying out as he sinks even deeper into your plush sex. “Prompto! Mmn!” With each utterance of his name, it becomes more broken, stuttered, breathing ragged.

“See? I knew you could listen,” he smirks, placing hot, openmouthed kisses along your jaw. “You’re gonna be late for work…”

“Don’t care, don’t stop.”

“And here I was, being bullied out of the shower a few minutes ago-“

“Prom!”

“All right, all right,” he chuckles, the pads of his fingers finding your clit. “If you insist.”


End file.
